I'm eating those fun-sized candy
bars but not having much "fun" while doing it. I'm thinking of
suing the manufacturer for false advertising.
Yes, a skinny cook can't be trusted, but a fat cook probably
double-dipped his spoon in your soup.
What do you call it when a Sage has nothing to say?
PROOF THAT YOU'VE GONE DEAF
A friend of mine recently had her purse
stolen, and like most people do, she blamed herself for leaving it
unattended. But with so many fuckwads in society just waiting for an
opportunity to prey on others, should we really blame ourselves for
something like that? It's like we live in a world now where if we
don't constantly hold on to things, someone apparently flips a
switch that turns off the laws of gravity and anything not weighed
down suddenly flies out into space (or into the hands of some
bottom-dwelling fuckwads -- wads for short).
Being the supportive friend
that I am, I told her to hang in there -- but
maybe I should have said hang ON to something, since we just can't
trust gravity anymore.
My favorite game is to turn the radio dial in the car to static and
pretend I'm the last man on earth. Then I'll stumble out of my car
at a country filling station and crawl toward the startled
attendant, screaming, "Thank God I'm not the last one!"
Why can't things arrive when you
"most" expect it?
When all is said and done, there's probably a Sage somewhere
that will say it all over again -- and again and again.
What do you call a King without a mandate?
TOP TEN EXPLANATIONS
FOR CROP CIRCLES
Just God playing connect the dots again.
9) Mother Earth wanted a
couple of really nice tattoos.
8) The Aliens are fucking with
us: but crop circles aren't really complex, they're just an
encrypted recipe for McDonald's secret sauce.
7) They're handy coasters for
the Jolly Green Giant's frosty beverages.
6) Someone in heaven has a
really bad cough.
5) Jeb and Cooter are at it
again with a rope and a couple wood planks.
4) They're government funded
3) Bored alien children are
using the earth as a giant Etch-A-Sketch.
2) They're the Satanic rituals
of devil-worshipping field mice.
1) Some people have WAY too much time on their
I read that if you use the following words -- bustin', feel,
beat, loose, shake, meat, disco, heat, pump it up, joint, jumpin',
humpin, feet, stompin' -- that almost any fool can instantly
create a top 40 disco hit. Lets see what kind of fool am I.
Pump it up
Feet are stompin'
The joint is jumpin'
You'll be humpin'
Feel the beat
Shake your meat
Well, shake my booty! I can already envision myself
adorned in a lime green polyester suit, while hitting the dance
floor with such a dazzling flurry of hip gyrations that John
Travolta would immediately rent a wheelchair.
already about my epileptic seizure.
How many times can you hit your funny
bone before it's not funny anymore?
Isn't it curious that whenever you gain the confidence that you
will never be led astray by anything ever again, some nice
villagers stick you in a boiling pot with the local
missionaries. That is the universal system of checks and
balances at work. If you get a big head, the TAO finds some
crazed, murderous savages to shrink it down to size and put it
on a stick.
Always put your best foot forward -- unless you're standing on
the edge of a cliff.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush -- if you flunked
As I grow older, the dating scene just doesn't have much appeal
anymore. So now days I favor threesomes -- me, and Ben &
In your uniqueness and individuality you best express essence.
Immediately following with a good bowel movement, helps, too.
What do you call a warrior that uses condoms two-sizes too
Look into a Warrior's eyes and you
see dismembered body parts. It's horrific. You could try
to run away, but
that only angers them and you never want to anger a warrior.
Angry warriors have this annoying tendency to break things, and
you just hope it's not your neck.
Understanding astrology can be
tricky. I'm a Libra and messy doesn't even begin to describe the
calamitous cacophony of clutter that crowds my computer room in
a continuous clash of creeping crud. On the other hand, my
friend Shepherd is also a Libra, and if you visit his condo, you
can't help but notice his obvious tidiness compulsion. I should
With a heavy-duty arsenal of cleaning products -- defoamers,
degreasers, descalers, and every other deranged word that begins
with D and cleans stuff -- Shepherd is a devout practitioner of
the old proverb, Cleanliness is Next to Godliness, which
now puts an omnipotent, omniscient originator and ruler of the
universe on his side. You can't get more cleaning power than
In fact, after Shepherd has finished his lengthy sanitization
process -- which can last from two days to the time it takes to
travel several interstellar light years -- he has sent every
known bacteria colony and microorganism back to the afterlife.
At which point that portly, vertically challenged psychic from
the movie Poltergeist arrives at his condo and seals the
deal, proudly proclaiming: This House is Clean.
So here's my theory: perhaps the left side of the Libran scale
is meant to be sloppy, and the right side is neurotically
antiseptic. It's like the old tug-of-war between Oscar Madison
and Felix Unger from the Odd Couple -- one side of the scale
balances a bottle of Windex, and the other side balances a
greasy pork sandwich that drips mustard on the couch. Thus,
Libras apparently share a duality of both clean and filthy at
the same time, or maybe if you're clean in this world, in a
parallel Universe somewhere you're this horrid, foul matter that
lives on a planet of sludge where raw sewage is the refreshment
of choice and greasy pork sandwiches are considered the ultimate
in gourmet food.
Either way, recalibrating the Libran scale might be the most
hygienically appealing solution here, or you could just have a
nine-thousand pound African Bull elephant crush the damn thing
and end this discussion right now, since, in all honesty, that
greasy pork sandwich is starting to look rather tasty.
Shepherd Hoodwin is a great Michael channel, but I've always thought he needed a
cool slogan. You've all heard of Intel's ad - Intel Inside.
What if Shepherd tattooed on his forehead, MICHAEL INSIDE?
It also makes me wonder what channels do if their essence
decides to exit the incarnation early and a walk-in takes its
place. Do they advertise to their customers: UNDER NEW
The Michael teachings really do make sense. I have a venusian
bodytype and it's characterized as lazy, indecisive, and
passive. That's so true. With my venusian tendencies, the only
way you'll ever track any movement from me is if you use
What do you call it when a Sage has nothing to say?
TIME TO REPLACE THE BATTERIES IN YOUR
Along with mate agreements and the
recently channeled ATE agreement, there are other interesting agreements
that Michael students should learn about.
A personal favorite of mine is the SLEEP LATE agreement, which
I've used throughout my lifetime in luxurious ways. Old sayings such as,
"you're going to sleep your life away" or "you made your bed now lie in it"
(usually delivered by nagging mothers), were beautiful affirmations to me
that, to this day, I still take to heart. On the other hand, sayings like
"lets sleep on it and talk about it in the morning" were always a disturbing
paradox. While I was more than fine with the idea behind the sleeping part,
the get-up-in-the-morning-to-talk-about-anything part was just cruel and
unusual punishment. Sleeping is serious business, and anyone that doesn't
let sleeping dogs lie, deserves a FIGURE EIGHT agreement on
The HOME PLATE agreement is, of course, popular with hormonally
deranged teenagers across the world, and more officially understood by
mature adults as the agreement to "procreate." Although, if you are less
mature and the before-mentioned teenagers are still involved, you could find
yourself serving 5-to-10 years in a local state prison with a JAIL BAIT
agreement. So keep Dirk Diggler in your pants, bud.
The BLIND DATE agreement is another common one, and a test of courage
to all those intrepid souls who firmly believe that success on a blind date
doesn't have to be a near death experience. Though, in my case, the
illumination I generated from going into the light so many times might
explain why my blind dates tended to scurry away from me like cockroaches on
a kitchen floor.
The FIRST RATE agreement is probably typified best by Mary Poppins,
who was perfect in every way -- that stuck-up bitch. And the
I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU MADE ME FUCKING WAIT agreement has been championed by
most of modern society, and is the bane of all who found themselves stuck in
traffic behind a line of cars so long that there appeared to be Roman
chariots sitting in the front row.
Lesser known agreements include the SECTION EIGHT agreement, the
PIECES OF EIGHT agreement, the SALAD PLATE agreement, or if you
just want to wash your hands of the whole thing, there's always the CLEAN
But between you and me, with all of these agreements to choose from, let's
just agree to disagree.
Dave, stop it!
When I was a little kid, I used to think that was my first,
middle, and last name.
A penny saved is a penny earned -- but it still takes a dollar
to buy a McDouble.
I recently read that most Americans think about money more than
sex. I suppose that makes sense. I often find myself thinking
about sex, and then thinking about the $50 it's going to cost
The blind leading the blind -- probably reads Braille with
someone else's hand.
MEMOIRS OF A SOCIETAL FAUX PAS
(Ok, it's about farting)
My pungent presence has been the spoiler at almost every social
gathering. My unexpected, clamorous eruptions have led to the
mortification of all modes of society. My miasmic intoxicated
existence has allowed me to stretch my long,
gaseous fingers into every level of the commonwealth, deftly
bridging the gap between poverty stricken peasants to the
decadent elegance of the royal crown; yet, I am an orphan.
A soulless entity, I have literally become a household name,
encompassing every culture with enduring phrases that clearly
define my presence. Where would the populace be without
delightful epithets such as: "Did you cut the cheese?", "Was
that a barking spider?", or "Did you just float a hot air
biscuit?" In my own special way, I have become a part of the
cornerstone of our community; if only a mere fragment in the
mortar. Yet, I have few friends.
So when you aim your alimentary canal to the aft side, and send
me bubbling and sputtering into an indubitably pungent
existence, I ask of you just one simple favor -- think of me
fondly. When your surprised friends fall to their knees, gasping
for breath as you excitedly exclaim to them, "Hey, did you get a
whiff of that one?", do me a simple favor -- think of me with a
knowing smile. For I am part of you and the collective whole of
humanity. I am the gestalt of the entire spectrum of society,
and I am truly...ubiquitous.
What do you call a Artisan that builds guillotines?
Expand in consciousness. Be ready to accept anything new, at any
time, even if it's an oozing glob of toe cheese that's whirling
towards your face at a gazillion times the speed of light.
Whenever I clean the fridge, I have
my flame thrower poised and ready in the event that some
indescribably terrifying mass tries to leap out at me.
worked with my ex-girlfriend.
Diamonds are a girl's best friend -- and a man's worst enema.
If you're stuck between a rock and a hard place, then stop
having sex on the kitchen counter.
Going, going, gone -- that's what happens when your little blue
pill wears off.
There's no place like home -- unless your mother-in-law lives
Life's a bitch -- and then there's divorce court.
Yesterday, an Amway distributor came to my door. I couldn't
find my crucifix so I defensively shouted: Stand back
or I'll douse you with holy water!
An ex-girfriend once dragged me to a couple Amway meetings.
These were frightening gatherings of young soul, right-wing
conservatives who broke out into fits of teeth-gritting, eyeball
ecstasy whenever someone mentioned the phrase "the plan," and
when at any time it was revealed that someone had "gone diamond"
-- the Holy Grail for Amway distributors -- they all stood and
clapped like trained circus monkeys.
I never understood what was going on, other than when it was
done we'd leave the auditorium like programmed robots,
obediently mumbling "tapes, books, rallies....tapes, books,
rallies....tapes, books, rallies..."
I think it was at one of the longer seminars that I first
entertained notions of pouring gasoline over my head and setting
myself on fire.
Yes, I'm a spoiled American and proud of it.
My advice before traveling to a small country in eastern Europe
is to thoroughly partake in the four food groups before you go:
Pizza Hit, Dairy Queen, McDonald's, and Taco Bell.
During my trip I mostly stayed in Tartu, Estonia, where you
couldn't find an ice cube within a hundred miles. In fact, the
only way I ever got a cold drink in Tartu was from the chilly disposition of
the waiters, who all give me icy stares whenever I complained that
cheese pizza is suppose to have more than trace amounts of
cheese on it.
On the other hand, the richly-flavored chocolate in Tartu was a
surprising addiction. I bought it in liquid form and injected it
straight into my veins. But pasteurized milk was just as scant
as the cheese there, since it's generally thought that all milk should still be served at the body temperature of the
cow. I thought that was udderly ridiculous.
and all, Tartu was a lovely place to visit and the cobblestone
streets and quaint buildings created a serene atmosphere, but be
forewarned that this is a walking community. During my
three-day stay there I had to invest in several pairs of walking
shoes because the festering blisters on my feet had grown so
large that whenever I was asleep they'd crawl
out the window and scare the local residents.
benefit of all this walking was readily apparent in the
unusually lean bodies of the Estonian women. Hugh Hefner has obviously never heard of
this country, but I'm seriously thinking of starting a magazine
there. I think I could really be the big cheese -- if they only
To touch the soul of another human being is to walk on holy
ground -- unless you touch someone on the sidewalks of New York
city, which could put you below the ground.
Friends are great big hugs from God -- who thought they were
real pests so he dumped them on you.
There's no place like home -- unless a homeless person wants to
share your cardboard box with you.
Off the beaten path -- is where you find the best shallow
He who laughs last -- has the shortest penis.
Keep that in mind before complaining about these jokes.